Paul Grubbs – Mansfield Park and Infatuation
Chapters 19-31 (Book 2)
Some spiritual people make a distinction between worship that focuses on the emotions of the individual person versus adoration that instead centers on the Creator. The difference between infatuation and genuine affection can be defined in similar terms. Infatuation is a narcissistic celebration of my own feelings – a thrill-ride on the endorphin rush of initial attraction – a celebration of my emotional needs met by my passion for another person. Love, in contrast, is a near-opposite that prioritizes the glories of another and embraces self-sacrifice as an inevitable element of genuine affection.
Henry’s feelings for Fanny are driven by a sense of conquest that is likely to evaporate once he is declared victorious. Self-satisfaction rather than generosity guides his behavior. His zeal at the start of Chapter 24 captures this vibe: “I cannot be satisfied without Fanny Price, without making a small hole in Fanny Price’s heart” (242). Later he fantasizes about exciting “the first ardours of [Fanny’s] young, unsophisticated mind” (248), where again his ability to manipulate her emotionally is perceived as the ultimate victory. Fanny is quick to diagnose these ambitions for what they are; even when Henry strings together a series of superficially kind acts she is not fooled: “He evidently tried to please her—he was gallant—he was attentive—he was something like what he had been to her cousins: he wanted, she supposed, to cheat her of her tranquility as he had cheated them” (270). Although a case can be made that Henry’s feelings evolve, at some level, beyond these early impressions, they never cross the Rubicon of genuine self-sacrifice – he never suffers on her account. Henry remains most concerned about the vitality Franny might, briefly, bring into his life rather than thinking in any terms of how he might benefit her (that are unconnected with a quid pro quo of eventual seduction.)
Mary Crawford’s feelings for Edmund are a more complex brand of infatuation. She is enraptured with the renovated Edmund she would like to collaboratively create, rather than the actual individual. Like her brother, Mary is most excited by her own creative powers (although unlike Henry she genuinely believes that her changes would benefit Edmund.) She confessed this quite clearly near the conclusion of chapter 23, when she is disgusted with his continued insistence on a frugal pastoral career: “The assurance of Edmund’s being so soon to take orders…. was felt with resentment and mortification. She was very angry with him. She had thought her influence more” (241). Instead of examining the motivations behind Edmund’s plans for the future, Mary interprets them only as a reflection of her own powers, or lack thereof. Although it recovers, her infatuation fluctuates wildly each time her confidence in her own mastery over Edmund is called into question. Her infatuation is founded on her own emotional response rather than the reality of the man she pursues.
These examples of infatuation are contrasted with the self-sacrificing devotion shared between Fanny and Edmund. During the drama involving her necklace for the Mansfield Park ball, Edmund sincerely tells Fanny, “Believe me, I have no pleasure in the world superior to that of contributing to yours” (272). From their initial bond as children, Edmund has demonstrated a willingness to prioritize Fanny’s needs that she does not receive from any other character. In a similar way, Fanny wrestles with how to best handle her poor impressions of Mary Crawford and always keeps Edmund’s welfare as the ultimate goal. After internally recounting the many inconsistencies between the genuine Miss Crawford and Edmund’s perceptions, Fanny determines to remain silent: “It was her intention, as she felt it to be her duty, to try to overcome all that was excessive, all that bordered on selfishness in her affection for Sir Edmund” (274). Fanny is willing to endure agony if it will enable Edmund to find the love he imagines with Mary. Although Edmund and Franny lack the live-wire, sparks-a-flying creative energy of the Crawford siblings, their devotion to one another has a generous purity lacking in any aspect of Mary and Henry’s frequent flings of fancy. Where the Crawfords look within to examine and reassess their devotion, Edmund and Franny look only to each other.
Chapters 19-31 (Book 2)
Some spiritual people make a distinction between worship that focuses on the emotions of the individual person versus adoration that instead centers on the Creator. The difference between infatuation and genuine affection can be defined in similar terms. Infatuation is a narcissistic celebration of my own feelings – a thrill-ride on the endorphin rush of initial attraction – a celebration of my emotional needs met by my passion for another person. Love, in contrast, is a near-opposite that prioritizes the glories of another and embraces self-sacrifice as an inevitable element of genuine affection.
Henry’s feelings for Fanny are driven by a sense of conquest that is likely to evaporate once he is declared victorious. Self-satisfaction rather than generosity guides his behavior. His zeal at the start of Chapter 24 captures this vibe: “I cannot be satisfied without Fanny Price, without making a small hole in Fanny Price’s heart” (242). Later he fantasizes about exciting “the first ardours of [Fanny’s] young, unsophisticated mind” (248), where again his ability to manipulate her emotionally is perceived as the ultimate victory. Fanny is quick to diagnose these ambitions for what they are; even when Henry strings together a series of superficially kind acts she is not fooled: “He evidently tried to please her—he was gallant—he was attentive—he was something like what he had been to her cousins: he wanted, she supposed, to cheat her of her tranquility as he had cheated them” (270). Although a case can be made that Henry’s feelings evolve, at some level, beyond these early impressions, they never cross the Rubicon of genuine self-sacrifice – he never suffers on her account. Henry remains most concerned about the vitality Franny might, briefly, bring into his life rather than thinking in any terms of how he might benefit her (that are unconnected with a quid pro quo of eventual seduction.)
Mary Crawford’s feelings for Edmund are a more complex brand of infatuation. She is enraptured with the renovated Edmund she would like to collaboratively create, rather than the actual individual. Like her brother, Mary is most excited by her own creative powers (although unlike Henry she genuinely believes that her changes would benefit Edmund.) She confessed this quite clearly near the conclusion of chapter 23, when she is disgusted with his continued insistence on a frugal pastoral career: “The assurance of Edmund’s being so soon to take orders…. was felt with resentment and mortification. She was very angry with him. She had thought her influence more” (241). Instead of examining the motivations behind Edmund’s plans for the future, Mary interprets them only as a reflection of her own powers, or lack thereof. Although it recovers, her infatuation fluctuates wildly each time her confidence in her own mastery over Edmund is called into question. Her infatuation is founded on her own emotional response rather than the reality of the man she pursues.
These examples of infatuation are contrasted with the self-sacrificing devotion shared between Fanny and Edmund. During the drama involving her necklace for the Mansfield Park ball, Edmund sincerely tells Fanny, “Believe me, I have no pleasure in the world superior to that of contributing to yours” (272). From their initial bond as children, Edmund has demonstrated a willingness to prioritize Fanny’s needs that she does not receive from any other character. In a similar way, Fanny wrestles with how to best handle her poor impressions of Mary Crawford and always keeps Edmund’s welfare as the ultimate goal. After internally recounting the many inconsistencies between the genuine Miss Crawford and Edmund’s perceptions, Fanny determines to remain silent: “It was her intention, as she felt it to be her duty, to try to overcome all that was excessive, all that bordered on selfishness in her affection for Sir Edmund” (274). Fanny is willing to endure agony if it will enable Edmund to find the love he imagines with Mary. Although Edmund and Franny lack the live-wire, sparks-a-flying creative energy of the Crawford siblings, their devotion to one another has a generous purity lacking in any aspect of Mary and Henry’s frequent flings of fancy. Where the Crawfords look within to examine and reassess their devotion, Edmund and Franny look only to each other.